


25 Days of Jolto Fic-Mas

by stravaganza



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Afghanistan, Christmas, Christmas Dinner, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Magic, Christmas Morning, Christmas Music, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, Christmas in a war-zone, Dorks in Love, I will add tags as I write, James' POV, John's POV, Jolto, M/M, POV Third Person Limited, Rating May Change, part of it, war zone
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-03
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-05-04 19:08:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 17,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5345291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stravaganza/pseuds/stravaganza
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I took hudders-and-hiddles' 25 Days of Fic-Mas challenge and gave it a Jolto twist ;)<br/>Prompts are specified in the title of each chapter.<br/>Enjoy! :D<br/>NSFW chapters will have a (E) on the title, so you can skip them if you want! The fic will stay labelled as mature, but there might be a few explicit chapters! :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Day 1 - Shopping for Gifts

Whenever people hear the name ‘Afghanistan’, they tend to imagine the same thing: a desert landscape with sandy dunes and camels, scorching sun shining all year long, temperatures never going below twenty degrees Celsius... But it was all a bunch of crap.

Truth was, Afghanistan could be terribly cold. The region wasn’t very humid, which made the weather more bearable, but by comparison with the heat of the summer days, winters could be harsh.

Even if the temperature usually didn’t go much lower than what you’d get in March in the UK, it was still frigid when you got used to the local temperatures.

That particular year, though, winter was  _really_  cold. John would have thought Afghanistan had decided to be colder than usual so he wouldn’t feel much difference when he returned home. For once he had managed to get a twenty days leave for Christmas and he had decided to take advantage of it.

However, leave was still two weeks away and John was determined not to get distracted on duty. But he was also determined to get all the Christmas presents he needed. He had few people at home who he’d shop for, but here at base there were a couple of guys he wanted to give gifts to.

So, as soon as an occasion presented itself, he went to the nearby city to do some shopping. Anything would do, from a collection of teas and spices for Clara and Harry to a few books for the boys who were still struggling with learning pashto, to a few bottles of alcohol for his closest friends. It was hard to come by most alcoholic beverages in Afghanistan and the army only provided them with a few beers and what they could slip in through care packages from their families, but God knew how often they needed something strong to sleep.

Luckily, John had made friends in the village near the base and one of the women who lived there told him that her son had an authorized shop for tourists in the city.

He only had one gift left to decide and he hoped that the perfect gift would just appear before him.

But destiny seemed to be against him. The person he wanted to find a gift for was with him all the time.

He usually didn’t mind spending time with his Commanding Officer and lover, Major Sholto, but today of all days...

“You’re going in town for presents too, Watson?” James asked as he watched his men pile up in a couple of Humvees for that very purpose.

“Yes, sir, I am,” John said with a grin. “I have leave this Christmas and I thought I should get some souvenirs for the sister,” he explained.

James nodded. “I don’t have any relatives myself, nor friends, so I didn’t think I was going, but... Well, I suppose I could. We could spend some time together before returning to base,” he offered.

John knew he wasn’t offering anything forward - not so publically, not so openly - but he still hoped, a bit, for something more. Be it a stolen kiss between the bazaars and alleys or more, he didn’t care. It would be nice to be off base with him.

So he had agreed, only realizing too late that he couldn’t buy a gift for him with him present. Still, if something caught the man’s eye he could return later, if there was time, and get it...

They walked together through the markets, the sun in the sky shining down on them as John picked up boxes of spices, sweets, candies and teas; James smiled down on him, his gaze warmer than the early December sun, and John watched him with a happy grin of his own as the Major chose spices and ingredients to cook something for their unit back on the base.

John knew he loved to cook, and maybe he could get him something for that. A cookbook with easy recipes for Afghanistan? A set of pans? An apron?

“You’re awfully thoughtful today,” James said when they were walking towards the bookstore, after he had told him about his idea for the rookies. “Is it just the presents?”

John flushed faintly and shrugged. “Oh, well, I was thinking that I only have two weeks left before Christmas leave and then I won’t see you for a while,” he admitted. It wasn’t a lie, after all.

James did that thing where he didn’t change expression, yet managed to look like he wanted to hug John, his eyes suddenly full of fondness for him.

“Well. We should make good use of these days. If we can’t spend Christmas together, we might as well just enjoy the moment.”

That was true, John supposed. He liked to imagine James and him back home together, though. Wandering hand in hand through the Christmas Market in front of the Tate Museum, making Christmas pudding and eggnog, even going caroling together sounded incredible. If only they could have that...

“I’ll be happy to celebrate early Christmas with you whenever you want,” he said with a smile. “And then, as soon as I can, I’ll kiss you. Because I really want to,” John added in a whisper, smirking at his CO.

It didn’t matter if he didn’t get him a present right away, after all. He could still give him one right after new year.


	2. Day 2 - Hot cocoa

After a cold day of patrols and medical bay duty, John wanted nothing more than go to sleep.

Well, that wasn’t true. He also wanted to curl up with James and maybe snog him, but after some quickly stolen kisses the night before he had barely seen the man and usually when that happened he knew he wouldn’t get a hold of him until the following day. Usually he was busy with meetings and briefings and intelligence exchanges, and they seemed to never have free time at the same moment.

So, it came as a big surprise that he would find a note from him between his clothes after he left the showers.

Thrilled that the man seemed to have found some time for him, John hurried to James’s office as soon as he was dry enough, bundled up in the warmest clothes he had even for the short walk from his barrack to James’s.

Still, when he arrived in the small office his hands were cold and he wanted to place them on James’s strong shoulders to steal all his warmth... except that he was too distracted to actually do so.

The entire room was filled with the rich aroma of chocolate, its scent intoxicating after so long without as much as a bite of the stuff... The good stuff, at least. Sneakers bars didn’t count.

“James,” John called, surprised, as he took his scarf and jacket off, grinning at the sight in front of him.

The man was curved over an electric stove he had plugged to the wall, in stead of his laptop, and a metal pot was on it. The pot shook and vibrated with the force of the liquid inside of it boiling, and James was adding milk from a bottle in the pot.

“You took your time,” he said with a smirk, stirring the hot drink he was making before adding a few spices to it.

“I was showering. I spent half the day in the desert and half the day giving flu shots,” he pointed out, sitting on the desk, a few inches away from the hot stove.

“Admit it, you’re just here for the cocoa.”

“I didn’t even know you had the stuff to make it... Speaking of which do you have marshmallows?”

James laughed. “I’ve been collecting small bits of chocolate and pouches of cocoa since August waiting just for this,” the major admitted with a wink. “And no, those are disgusting.”

John faked a gasp. “You’re a monster,” he said, grinning.

“Well, they’re hard to come by. I would have had to steal them from other people’s care packs... bad idea. You’re lucky I could steal a few sugar packages to add in this from the coffee machine,” he said, raising an eyebrow at John. “But if you don’t want this...”

“Oh, no, by all means, do continue,” John said with a laugh, kicking his feet a bit childishly from the edge of the desk.

After a few minutes of silence during which John stared at his lover, the scent of the chocolate almost becoming intoxicating, James turned the stove off and retrieved the two liqueur glasses he kept in the cabinet behind his desk, with a bottle of scotch. After a moment of thought, he poured a finger of the beverage in the mixture and stirred it in with a smirk.

“Rhum would have been better,” John pointed out.

“Next time you get me the stuff to do this. Or I’ll just make it for myself,” James said back with an amused smile as he poured the hot chocolate in the glasses, scraping the pot’s sides with the spoon he had used to stir it.

When it couldn’t be cleaned anymore, and they had gotten two almost full glasses of cocoa, James licked the spoon clean and went to the small bathroom to leave the tools in his sink, filling the pot with water so it would be easier to clean later. But, right in that moment, he just wanted to be with John.

The doctor waited for him with a happy, lazy grin. James could only answer in kind and walk to him, picking the glasses up and pushing one in John’s hand as he went to stand between his spread legs.

“Well, Merry Christmas. Twenty days early,” he said, clinking their glasses gently together.

John hummed and sipped at his hot cocoa, closing his eyes as the rich texture of real chocolate rolled off his tongue, and the alcohol burned nicely down his throat, the spices enlightening the sensation.

He might or might not have groaned in pleasure.

When John opened his eyes he found James looking at him with the usual mixture of curiosity and desire that never failed to make the doctor blush.

“What can I say, you’re a terrific cook even when it’s just hot chocolate,” John said in his defense.

“I’m just glad you like it, really,” James said with a smile, leaning closer and taking John’s glass to put it down, before kissing the man gently.

“Oh, that’s nice,” John said against his lips, licking them. “That’s  _very_  nice,” he repeated softly, wrapping his arms around James’s neck.

James chuckled against his lips and kissed him again, more deeply, his hands on his hips, keeping him there.

John knew there was no need for words, not when they could just have this, when they both needed this. And so he was very disappointed when James pulled away, grinning.

“We should finish this,” he said, picking his mug up again. “If it gets cold we won’t get to drink it anymore, and it’s too good to waste it...”

John whined and tried to lean in again, but James put John’s glass against the doctor’s lips. “Drink up, and then I’ll get on my knees right here.”

Needless to say, hot cocoa wasn’t the only thing John enjoyed that night.


	3. Day 3 - Winter Wonderland

John didn’t really believe in “Christmas magic” or that sort of stuff. He never had, not even as a child.

So, seeing his younger comrades being all saddened by their first Christmas away from their families, or his older ones scoffing about the presents they would have to send to the families they’ve left home without being able to see them, made him feel guilty.

Just because he didn’t believe in Christmas magic didn’t mean that he wouldn’t try and make other people’s holidays better. He had made up his mind to go to his CO and ask him to give his leave to someone else, maybe one of the older soldiers who hadn’t been home in years.

After all, John didn’t mind. He could still send his presents home. It’s not like his sister was waiting for him with bated breath. Besides, he’d rather spend the holidays in the base with James than in some random pub because Harry got drunk and ruined their Christmas dinner.

When he arrived to his office, however, James was leaving the room and they bumped into each other.

“Major Sholto, sir!” John said immediately, mortified. Thankfully the only thing James was holding was a plastic water bottle, and he hadn’t even dropped it.

“Captain Watson,” he said with a nod. “Just the man I was looking for. Come with me,” he said, walking past John and expecting him to follow.

Knowing he would, orders or not.

“Sir, there’s something I meant to ask you,” John said, falling in step with the Major despite the man’s longer strides.

“There will be time for that later, Watson. Right now I need to be in a meeting and I need you with me.”

Even when it was about work, James had a way to say such things that always made John’s heart stutter, and his arguments fall like a house of cards.

“Yes, sir, I understand,” he said, trying not to blush.

They went to the conference room, where James and other officials reported to the higher ups back in London during a video call. John wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do, really, but if James wanted him there then there he would be. For him. He’d do anything for him.

It took almost an hour for the meeting to be over, but as they saluted their superiors John felt freedom being returned to him and he wondered if James would have some time for him that day. They were already lucky the previous night with their chocolate.

As John followed James out of the room and towards his office again, John had to ask. “Sir, what was that? You didn’t need me,” he said, a bit confused.

They stopped walking in the middle of the path between the headquarters and the barracks, their jackets zipped up to his chins as the overcast sky over them threatened rain.

“Was there something you wanted to ask me earlier, Watson?” asked James in turn, evasive.

John narrowed his eyes but straightened his back and puffed his chest out, tilting his chin up. “Yes, sir. I’ve been meaning to ask you to give my leave to someone else. I don’t really have a family waiting for me, unlike some of the other men.”

James joined his hands behind his back and let his eyes travel all over John, thoughtfully. Then, he said, “You should be thankful for your leave, Watson. Many would kill to get it.”

“That’s what I meant, sir,” John replied, taken aback.

James gave him a small smile, fleeting, like he usually did when he couldn’t contain himself but neither could he show his feelings. “Well, you should enjoy it regardless, Watson. Might be your last Christmas leave for a while. I asked to push your papers. They’re considering making you Major.”

It took John a few seconds of stunned silence to understand what James was saying. He blinked a few times, and then remembered to breathe. “You’re... really?”

“They were looking for someone from this unit to upgrade, and I made your name. They were impressed with your service status. You’ve proved yourself a valuable asset and a good strategist. I needed you in the meeting room so they could see your discipline, and so you could get used to how those meetings work. Hopefully they will decide to make you Major. Of course, that would mean you won’t be under my command anymore...” James said with a small smile, and John didn’t miss what he wasn’t saying.

They wouldn’t be in the same unit. And if John wasn’t transferred, they might even be out in the open. In a proper relationship.

He was sure his eyes must have been as wide as saucers if James’s chuckle was anything to go by.

And that’s when he noticed. It had started snowing.

“Well. Perhaps we will even get a white-ish Christmas,” James said as he smiled softly at John, winking at him before turning on his heels and walking back to his office, leaving a still stunned John standing in the falling snow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, let's say snow in Afghanistan is a Winter Wonder, mh? :P


	4. Day 4 - Christmas Cards

“Oi John, what are you writing? I’m shite with these things!”

John frowned. He was staring down at his own Christmas cards, completely unsure about what to put in them. True, he was just going to hand them out with his presents, while his friends would have to write in a card, and maybe a letter, all the things and feelings they wanted to express while away.

While he could just tell people those things.

“Is it for your girlfriend? Tell her something about how much you miss her eyes and her smile and say that you love her, David. I’m sure it’s all true and she’ll be happy to hear that.”

The man grinned at him. “Oh, Three-Continents to the rescue! Cheers for wooing my lady for me,” he grinned.

“Is that what you’d write to your girlfriend, John?” Bill asked, winking at John. He knew he had no one waiting for him at home, but he still managed to make him blush. It was funny for Bill, and terrifying for John, who always had to hope James and he wouldn’t be found out.

“Nah, I’m not that bad at poetry, mate. You know that,” John quipped, grinning, “I wrote half the letters you sent to your girlfriend, and she still agreed to marry you!”

“Watch it,” Murray laughed, throwing a balled up paper to John.

In the end, he decided to just scribble down “Merry Christmas” on his cards, all except for one. That one he brought to his room, to try and write in peace before his bunkmates joined him.

He was still thinking about the previous day, about the snowflakes dancing around James’s retreating back as he was left with the knowledge that soon, after new year, he might get to be with James without hiding.

The whole day he had been in a daze, smiling dumbly whenever he thought about it, even as he changed stitches on his patients or bandaged new wounds, usually minor and due to stupid accidents.

And now, the sun already set and dinner warm in his stomach, John was left thinking about what to write on the only Christmas card he couldn’t give in person. He would have to take it home with him and he would have to send it anonymously to avoid being caught, but… it would be worth it.

He thought of James, and his smile. His icy eyes, so warm whenever he didn’t have to hide behind his authority, and his pale skin. How easily he burnt under the sun, and how often John had used the excuse of rubbing sunburn cream on him to touch him He thought of his freckles and his kisses, his laughter, his witty, deadpan jokes and sharp humour… And he thought about how much he loved him.

John stared at the cheery reindeers flying in the paper sky, as if they were mocking him with their cartoonish smiles. He hoped the childish design would make James smile, too.

In the end, he went to sleep with the card tucked beneath his pillow, only a few lines scribbled inside of it.

“ _Dearest James,_  
_I miss your eyes like a drowning man misses water in the desert._  
_I miss your smile like a blind man misses the stars._  
_I miss your voice like a lost man misses a compass._  
_It might not be original to talk about drowning and air, but being without you feels just like that. I am lost, and I am empty. You have my heart, and I hope to see you keep it._  
_I love you._  
  
_-JHW_ ”

Maybe it was a bit too sappy, but that didn’t make his words any less true. Hopefully James wouldn’t laugh at him for that, but at least John wouldn’t be there to see his reaction. That was the only good thing from spending Christmas apart: it saved him from embarrassment.


	5. Day 5 - Ghost of Christmas Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadness ahoy!!

“You okay, Watson?” one of his mates, Robert, asked that day while they were getting breakfast. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost!”

John didn’t even know what to grumble in response to that. He could say that he had, but that wasn’t exactly true. He  _had_ dreamt of his ghosts, though.

“I just didn’t sleep well, that’s all,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t unusual for people in war zones to barely catch a blink, after all.

“As long as you won’t be useless in the bay,” another man piped up from behind him in the queue. John turned to glare at him - Frank, or something - and replied bitterly, “Hopefully there won’t be any need for me to be useful in the bay, for once!”

He knew he should rein his temper, but he couldn’t help himself. He was irritable and grumpy on most days, but today he felt ready to bite heads off.

Robert, in front of him, frowned. “No need to be like that, John. You know things can go bad.”

John gritted his teeth. “Well, today I don’t want to think of that, is it too much to ask?” he hissed, taking his tray and walking past them as he went to put it away. He wasn’t hungry, anyway.

It didn’t take long, less than an hour, for James to come looking for him. He had a couple of apples with him, and a few granola bars too, and he left them on the desk in the medical bay.

“You should eat, Watson. You know it’s important to keep your energies up at all times,” he said, his hands joined together behind his back as usual.

John hated him for being right, and grumbled something unintelligible as he reached for a snack bar, unwrapping it and taking a bite of the sugary treat.

“Do you want to talk about it?” James asked, his voice softer than it was a moment earlier, and John knew they had shifted in that sort of half-intimacy they sometimes allowed themselves in public spaces, when alone.

“It’s nothing. I just...” John sighed and took another bite to avoid talking. But James was patient and waited for him to stop chewing, before tilting his head and raising an eyebrow.

John swallowed his morsel and groaned, before replying. “I just dreamt of my mother,” he admitted, a knot in his throat. “Of the last Christmas we spent together before she... well,” he said, his voice breaking a bit.

James didn’t reply, but when John looked up at him his eyes were kind and understanding.

“I’ve never really had a real Christmas with my family. My father was always busy with his own military career, before he died in action, and my mother and I weren’t very close. I don’t have siblings, and so Christmas days usually went by unnoticed. Maybe with a few presents, but they weren’t a must do. I never really understood what all the fuss over Christmas was about,” James said, pausing for a moment before adding, “until now.”

John looked up at him with too-wide eyes and surely reddened cheeks, speechless. He wasn’t sure what to say about that. He wasn’t sure there was anything to say, really.

Their conversation was cut short by the entrance of a few meek-looking privates. They had played too much in the powdery snow, like children, and they now needed something to put on their fingers before they fell off for the cold.

James left as John lectured the young men, but he was already feeling better.

That night, after dinner, John went to James’s office to find him still working. He wasn’t sure what to add to their previous conversation. He felt responsible for the way James felt, and knowing he had made his Christmas better (had he?) made his heart soar with happiness.

He thought of the card he had written the previous night and smiled, knowing that now he would have to send it to him as soon as he got home.

“What’s with the smile?” James asked, a matching grin on his lips.

John shook his head and stood from the chair he was sitting in, plopping himself in James’s lap with a smirk.

“You’ve made me love Christmas again, too,” he whispered, kissing him softly.


	6. Day 6 - Naughty and Nice (E)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Explicit content, gents and ladies! Things get heated. John getting some + some spanking, just so you know!  
> Tags: spanking, clothed sex, top!James, bottom!John, Christmas hats, fingering, anal sex

John knew it was dangerous, but maybe that was what made it even more exciting.

After their snog the previous night, John had realized James and he hadn’t had proper sex in a long while. There had been the nice blowjob after the hot chocolate, a few night previous, but before that there had been nothing for far too long. Maybe that time John had given James a quick handjob before a meeting, but that had been a month earlier... he simply  _had_  to do something about it.

Hence his being naked in James’s bed, a Santa Claus hat he had found in the common room the only scrap of clothing he was wearing, shivering with the cold even beneath the sheets.

He had locked the door to James’s office and closed the conjoining bedroom door. James was the only one with the key, and that way he’d know he was in there, but if he had to come in with someone else he wouldn’t be seen.

When he heard the front door rattle, he propped himself up on his elbows and felt his cheeks flush. He had been waiting for James, true, but he still felt nervous about it.

When the front door opened and closed, then was locked again, John put on his sultriest smile. A moment later the bedroom door creaked open, and James stood there, staring at him.

“Well,” he said softly, and John melted in that hot gaze full of desire.

With a grin and a cheeky tilt of his head he asked, “Hello, Major. Come sit in Santa’s lap and I’ll tell you if you’ve been naughty or nice.”

There was a moment of silence during which James’s face was crossed by a smirk. John was sure he would laugh in his face, but instead he closed the door behind him again.

“Oh?  _You_  will tell  _me_? Why, I’m sure I already know the answer to that question...” James said, his voice a purr as he walked to the foot of the narrow bed, kneeling on it and slowly crawling towards John. “A better question would be,” he said, straddling John’s lap and pushing him back on the bed, “what have  _you_  been? Because I think you’ve been  _very_  naughty.”

With that, James wrapped his arms around John’s neck and leaned down to press their lips together.

“Showing up, naked and uninvited, in your CO’s bed... No doubt soiling the sheets... That’s not something a good boy does, don’t you think? It’s a bit not good,” he whispered, leaning in to bring his lips against John’s ear. “You should be punished.”

John’s mouth fell open, and he shivered beneath James. “Oh, God, yes,” he whispered, turning his head to kiss the man, but instead he pulled away with a grin.

“No, no... Nothing like that until your punishment is over,” the major grinned, winking at John. Legitimately  _winking_.

John’s mouth went dry and he nodded, maybe a bit too eagerly. James grinned and sat next to John, legs dangling from the bed. He pulled the doctor from beneath the covers and put him across his lap, making him gasp at the feeling of his naked body against James’s rough fatigues.

“Oh God,” John said, his eyes fluttering closed when James’s hand ran over the back of his thighs and on his cheeks.

“Mmh... I think we should do twelve. Like the song. But I won’t ask you to sing along, you can just count for me,” James said, voice firm, as if John hadn’t spoken.

The doctor nodded eagerly and arched in the touch, biting on his lips.

The first blow came without warning. John gasped again, startled by the sudden  _smack_  and the heat rising from his arse, his skin stinging.

“One!” he counted, obediently, flushing deeply. It  should have been embarrassing, but he liked it.

Three more hits came in rapid succession, one to his other cheek and then one for each thigh.

John moaned out loud, counting each time with a shudder of pleasure, his hands fisted in the bed covers. He was growing aroused with every hit, the pain kept to a minimum by James’s big, capable hands.

He was a strong man, but he knew how to use that strength perfectly, and maybe that’s what aroused John even more. As he counts each hit with a soft moan and a struggle to stay still, he feels his body rippling with the aftershock of the blow, and he moans each time.

When he gets to twelve, James pulls him up and across his lap, very much like Santa would, and John knows his own face is red enough to work as a beacon at night.

“How are you?” James asked, concern carefully hidden behind his ice blue eyes.

John groaned and leaned forward, kissing James hard, his tongue forcing his lips open to deepen their contact, their chests flush together.

When they broke apart, panting, John asked, “Aren’t you taking your clothes off?”

But James took John’s wrists and shook his head. “Bad boys don’t deserve that. I will have you like this. Take the lube.”

The command made John tremble. He went to the small bedside table and fished out their last bottle of lube, nearly finished. He’d have to remember to get more of them while on leave, and to sneak them in.

As soon as he moved to straddle James’s lap properly, the major moved his hand and undid his belt, pulling his erection out. Despite himself, John felt his mouth water a bit.

“None of that, John,” James chastised him, smirking. “Not today.”

Wordlessly, knowing arguing would be pointless, John handed him the lube.

“Will you prepare me, Sir?” he asked, batting his eyelashes and smiling faux-coyly, making the other man grin.

“With pleasure,” he answered, tugging John closer for another kiss.

As James’s slick fingers worked their way inside of him, John felt himself growing even hotter and harder. He bore back on his fingers, rocking his hips and mimicking what he would do later on James’s cock, biting his lips as the major crooked his fingers to touch his prostate.

It wouldn’t take James long to make him come like this, since they hadn’t done this in ages. John wanted to feel the man inside of him, and stopped him with a gentle hand on his biceps, his legs trembling with the effort of kneeling over him.

“Please... I’m ready, I need you,” John whispered, closing his eyes and shivering.

James cupped his head with his clean hand and kissed him senseless once more. Then, when they parted, he slicked himself up and wiped his hands on the sheets, to then grip John’s hips and guide himself inside of his lover.

“Oh God, yes, that’s good,” John whimpered, closing his eyes and arching his back a bit. “Yeah,” he moaned, shivering. He wanted nothing more than to stay like that, slowly letting the burn of James’s girth spread pleasantly inside of him as he bore down on him.

When he was sitting on James’s lap, his cock fully sheathed inside his body, John moaned again and closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against James.

“Are you okay?” the taller man asked sweetly, pressing kisses all over John’s face, his own breathing coming in irregular puffs.

John nodded and tilted his head back so he could kiss the man, and soon the two soldiers were moving again, together, James’s hands guiding John’s thrusting hips in slow, sensual rockings of their bodies, following together the same rhythm.

It didn’t take long for their pace to grow frantic, and soon they were moaning in each other’s mouth, calling each the other’s name, James’s hand closing around John’s cock and stroking him to completion. After that, it took less than two thrusts for the major to come as well.

They seemed to froze after their climax, chests heaving and eyes languidly locked together, before James leaned in and kissed John again, barely a brush of lips, whispering.

“I love you, John...”

John’s heart hammered in his chest, but he replied, “I know. I love you too.”

James smiled tenderly and helped him lie down next to him so they could cuddle together and nap for a while, before John had to go back to his room.

John took off the hat he was still wearing and threw it off the edge of the bed while James did the same with his soiled shirt, and after a while, smirking, the doctor asked, “So... did I make it on the ‘Nice’ list?”

James chuckled against his ear, biting at the shell gently. “Oh, I wouldn’t know... I think I’ll have to see you again soon.”


	7. Day 7 - The Nutcracker

John felt happy and dazed after what had happened with his major. He had missed having that kind of contact with James, and after such a long time he felt invigorated by it, even if his muscles felt a bit strained from all the exercise.

He didn’t mind. At all. He’d remember waking up next to James for days, and he’d feel his cheeks flush whenever he thinks about it - and what happened afterwards.

He was once more in line for breakfast when he heard two people, Bill and his lady, Emily, snigger. John envied them, their being on the same level, and him being a doctor while she was in the infantry, so that their relationship didn’t have to be a secret. He also envied that Murray had asked Emily to marry him, that he  _could_  do that at all.

“What’s so funny?” John asked, smirking.

“You haven’t noticed?” Bill said with a huge grin, nodding his head.

John frowned in confusion, moving to turn around, hesitating and studying Murray’s face to check he had gotten his hint right, and then actually looking in the direction he had indicated.

And right there was James, just entering the room, whistling a soft melody to himself. John raised an eyebrow and suppressed a small smirk.

“The major is whistling. Not so funny,” he chided, but Bill shook his head.

“He got laid, John!” Bill said excitedly, before Emily could swat his arm.

John could feel himself pale, but he tried to freeze his face in a mask of amusement. “He what now?”

Emily rolled her eyes. “What Bill meant is, he seems happy. He reckons it must be because of sex,” she said with a pointed raising of her eyebrow at her fiancée, “ _I_  think he’s in love.”

Oh. “Oh, well. I doubt we’ll ever know, eh?” John said, trying to be dismissive, if nothing else for self preservation. The line moved, and he stepped forward to take a tray and some cutlery.

“But Em, he’s whistling the  _Nut_ cracker, you said so yourself!” Bill sniggered childishly, causing Emily to snort as well.

“Stop it, you. It’s sort of a Christmassy tune, no need to make silly jokes about it,” she said, but Bill wrapped one arm around her waist and kissed her cheek.

John let out a nervous chuckle and picked something to eat. He reached for a banana, but went for an apple at the last moment, blushing.

“But he does look happier than usual, you’ll admit,” Bill insisted.

“Wouldn’t be the first time he looks like that, though.”

“Well, whatever it is, I suppose it’s good to see him look less grim than usual, yeah?” John interceded as Bill and Emily picked their breakfasts as well. He wanted to end the conversation before it got dangerous, and he wanted to go back to feeling relaxed and happy without being found out. He started to turn away to leave them, when Emily’s whispering voice reached his ears.

“You know, John... You look quite happy, too.”

He pretended not to hear her as his ears turned crimson.


	8. Day 8 - Baking

It wasn’t long before Mr and soon-to-be-Mrs Murray were on his case again.

The day had been uneventful, and after their talk the previous morning (and, John suspected, an eye-opening chat with Emily) Bill started pestering him about his good mood.

Needless to say, but such mood was long gone. It’s not that John didn’t trust Bill - they were good friends, and he wouldn’t make their names to the higher-ups - but John still couldn’t bring himself to talk about certain things, to... admit them. He wasn’t ashamed of his feelings. Hell, he’d be telling everyone that James was his, if he could. But he couldn’t risk the man’s career just because he wanted to be selfish and yell his love from the rooftops.

“I’m just saying... You know I’m open-minded, that’s all,” Bill would say, and John would groan.

“I know that, yes. You’ve told me already you’re bi and all that,” would be his reply, only to be met with Bill’s insistance.

Only when Emily came to the medical bay to fetch Bill did the questions come to an end, if for a moment.

“Leave John alone, he doesn’t want to talk about it,” Emily said, taking for granted that they knew what was on. She didn’t give John time to retort, because she clapped her hands and said, “What matters is that John is happy. And that major Sholto is happy. Because that means cookies!”

Bill looked at her in surprise. “Cookies?”

“Yes, it’s Sholto’s day off and he’s spending it baking. How amazing is that?”

John and Bill exchanged surprised looks, and the three of them went to the canteen to have lunch. When they arrived they found trays upon trays of cookies, and every person getting them in handfuls of five.

They got in line with everyone else - not just their unit, but every other person on base was there too, to get some sweets. John didn’t blame them. The scent of cinnamon was almost overwhelming, filling the canteen.

When they arrived to the cookies, plates full of food, James was taking out a couple more batches. John met his eyes and they exchanged a brief smile.

“Major,” he said to him, raising an eyebrow. “I think I know why you were buying so much stuff the other day in the city.”

James chuckled and shrugged. “What can I say, I wanted to do something nice for all the men before some of them started to go on leave.”

“I think you’ve succeeded, sir. They’ll be talking about it for months.”

The smile that came in response to that was almost blinding. John felt dazed as he picked his cookies, his own face red as he smiled back. “Thank you, sir.”

As they walked away, he felt Bill and Emily’s eyes on him, and he hoped they would not comment on the exchange... Except that Bill  _had_  to lean in and whisper, “Well, I do understand what you see in him.”

John groaned in embarrassment and finally gave in, defeated. “Oh, shut  _up_!”


	9. Day 9 - Making A Christmas List

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> James's POV! Little introspection on his Christmas list (aka I had no idea what to write)

James couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this happy.

He had never had a relationship before John - no time, no need,  no desire for it. But now he understood why people looked for that sort of thing. John was perfect. Maybe their relationship was a bit unconventional, and unprofessional, and maybe some people would say  _wrong_ , but he didn’t care. He didn’t think so. It didn’t  _feel_ wrong.

It wasn’t the suffocating thing he had seen other people have, with constant touching or being together, although James would have loved being able to touch John more, to be with him a bit more.

No, their relationship would be like this if they could be together at all times. They’d kiss and cuddle on the couch watching movies. They’d spend quiet evenings reading in bed, and afternoons having tea together, sitting in their armchairs by the fire. They’d make love on most nights, and just hold each other, and talk. They wouldn’t have to hide.

Sometimes James liked to think of this as their future, once retired from the army. It was something they could easily have, then. No one would question them. No one would even need to know.

But for now James had smaller things in mind for them. He smiled and looked down at the scrap of paper on which he had been scribbling all day long, trying to find words to express what he felt. In the end, he had opted for a simple list, which he slipped in John’s pocket after dinner.

***

 _"In case you don’t know what to get me for Christmas, here’s a list of things I would like:_  
_\- kisses in the morning_  
_\- getting to wake up next to you_  
_\- showering together_  
_\- breakfast in bed_  
_\- going out on a proper date_  
_\- telling everyone that you’re mine_  
_\- cooking together_  
_\- a new pair of gloves_  
_Of course, you don’t have to buy me anything, but if you must, here are a few gift ideas..._  
_With love,_

_JS"_

He wondered what John would get him...


	10. Day 10 - Scrooge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? Real life took over. :(  
> Sorry for the delay! I'll write as much as I can to get back on track!

James went to the field hospital when everything was over. He looked around, and seeing no sign of John he decided to head for the spot where the doctor usually hid from the world.

It had been a bad day, to put it mildly. James’s patrol had been attacked, and a lot of men had been hurt and killed: James himself didn’t know how he had made it out of there alive, but he was glad John had been left back at the base. The thought of the man being wounded under his command, in front of him... It was unbearable.

Still, the doctor had had to deal with the aftermath of it. The wounded, and the crippled, and the dying, all had ended up in the field hospital. The luckiest ones would have to be discharged. And the others...

James arrived to the tree John usually sat under. True enough, he was sitting beneath the thin branches, staring into the distance, wearing a jacket clearly not warm enough, if the shaking of his hands was due to more than just anger.

He dropped his hat on John’s head, and sat next to him to let him share his warmth.

“Tough day,” he said to break the silence, only to receive a snort in reply.

“You think?” John spat out, biting his lips before continuing. But he shook his head instead, and covered his face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t take this out on you. You were there, for Christ’s sake. You... you were...”

John didn’t finish his sentence. He was shaking all over now. James wrapped his arms around him, quietly shushing him.

“Shh... It’s alright. I know,” James said, sighing through his nose.

But John shook his head. “You don’t! You don’t know how it feels to be afraid of every person that comes into the bay, being afraid of who it will be, and knowing that if it is the person you’d never want to see there you’ll have to stick your hands in them to try and stop them from bleeding out,” he rambled, shaking with fury.

It was true, he supposed. Being a doctor required a whole lot of different problem managing skills than being just an official. Add to that their whole situation... it must have been torture.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t get to you sooner. Your staff had closed the bay to everyone who wasn’t a nurse, doctor, wounded or carrying injured people. I would have been in the way,” he said apologetically. He wished he could kiss John right then, but they couldn’t risk it.

“I hate this,” John said after a long moment of silence. “I hate that whenever there’s a moment of respite, or something that makes me feel like the world is still a good place, these things happen. Christmas should be a good time when nothing bad happens but, surprise surprise, it only serves to let everyone know that bad things happen all the time.”

James hesitated, unsure how to reply. When John didn’t seem to want to add anything else, he sighed and looked at him.

“That’s not what Christmas is about, though. Not completely. You can’t turn into Scrooge and say you hate it just because you don’t like that things happen in this period. You should know that life is never like we’d want it,” James said quietly. “I would love to just be with you, for example, but we know that can’t really happen. Even when your promotion will be officialized, we won’t be able to admit this for a long while, or people might accuse us of favoritism. It’s not the same as dying on the field, but... bad things happen. To everyone. We should just be grateful when they don’t happen to us.”

John shook his head. He shrugged James’s arms off and stood, still shaking a bit. “I have to check on my patients,” he said curtly, before heading back for the tent.

James sighed and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Not knowing what else to do, he stood and returned to his quarters.


	11. Day 11 - Mulled Wine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M BACK, BABY!!!  
> ... at least, I hope. My goal this year is to finish this fic! Hope you'll like the end result, guys!

The following day, John felt quite guilty. He hadn’t meant to lash out at James like that - he knew perfectly well that the man had only spoken out of concern and love - but at the same time he hadn’t been able to reign in his temper.

He hated the feeling of impotence that washed over him whenever tragedy struck, which was more often than not, in the army, and most of all, in these occasions John's hatred was all directed towards himself.

After all, whose fault was it if a soldier died on his table? Who hadn't been quick enough? Who hadn't been smart enough or strong enough to save a life? John knew he was a good doctor, a pretty great one truth to be told, but such instances always left him feeling raw, as if he had clawed all his skin away.

This time had been particularly nasty, and what had John done? He had snapped in anger at the one single man he cared the most about, the only one who always seemed to make these things better by saying the right things at the right moments. Except when nothing could make things better.

John had to apologise, he knew that. He wanted to, as well. But he was ashamed, and a bit afraid that his freaking out might have driven James away from him. So, he had avoided the man all day long - which ended up being relatively easy, as Major Sholto seemed intent on avoiding him in turn.

 _That's it_ , John thought glumly as he headed to the mess hall to have his dinner. _I've chased James away with my temper tantrum and now he'll never want to have anything to do with me..._

But before his mind could fossilize on such a ridiculous thought, his nose picked up on something. He sniffed the air, and raised both eyebrows, following the heavy scent back to the source.

Which, as it turned out, was James himself.

John entered the hall to find rows upon rows of rowdy soldiers, chatting and laughing loudly as they queued for their meals. Which would have been normal, John thought, if they didn't all look so much excited than usual. John picked up a tray and fell into line, confused as hell, until it was his turn to get his food. When he arrived at the refrigerator that made up the end of the counter, rather than the usual piles of yogurt, pudding or jell-o, he found that one of the stoves from the kitchen had been rolled out in the hall, and that on one of its hubs sat a pot so big it could only be described as a cauldron.

The scent seemed to be emanating from the pot's contents, and John looked up in confusion at one Major James Sholto, stirring the bubbling liquid with a smile on his face, deeply red from the heat and steam rising up from the pot.  
  
"Watson," he greeted John cheerfully, which only served to confuse him more.  
  
"Major," was all John could say, his question going unasked but for the raising of one puzzled eyebrow.

"What's all this then?" a helpful soldier queueing behind John asked, his eyes wide as he looked at the pot.

James' lips curled into an even wider smile, despite his obvious attempts at holding it back. Plucking a solo cup from its packaging, Sholto used his ladle to scoop two servings of the liquid in it, handing John the hot drink.

The doctor brought the cup to his lips, brow still furrowed, and his eyes went wide when the thick, spicy liquid touched his tongue.

"Mulled wine?" he asked out in loud surprise, and now James let himself go to a chuckle. John wondered how drunk he was from the fumes alone.

"Indeed!" he said, nodding his head back towards the kitchen. "Some of the Italian boys are leaving tomorrow, and they decided to make a surprise for all the soldiers who are staying here over Christmas. I offered to help them and I learnt a very nice traditional recipe," he explained to John and the growing crowd of men and women who were trying to crane over far enough to hear the explanation.

John didn't know how to react, so he settled for a surprised smile. "That was nice of you, Sir," he said.

Sholto shrugged and resumed his distribution of the drink, filling the cups up with precision. "I had to turn a blind eye as on how they got so much wine, but I think it was worth it. After what has happened yesterday, I think we all deserve a little treat," he said, his voice turning a bit graver, and his clear eyes fixing on John.

The doctor felt as if that gaze had just seen right into his soul, and he lowered his own eyes in renewed shame.

"Thank you, Sir," he said honestly, putting as much of his feelings as he dared into those words.

"Enjoy your meal, Captain," James replied, and John took that as his cue.  
He picked up his tray and left James behind to serve the once again moving line, his insides suddenly feeling a lot warmer than before - and not just because of the delicious wine. John knew then and there that he was forgiven, and he would forever associate the heavy scent of spices and hot wine with the feeling of peace that came with knowing he was loved.


	12. Day 12 - Ugly Christmas Jumpers

John hated packing, and he couldn't wait to get the deed over with, so much that he started filling his bag with what few possessions he would need back home as soon as he could. That ended up being one morning he happened woke up earlier than usual, a few days before his leave.  
  
He didn't really pay it much attention, preferring to shove his pants, socks and casual wear into the duffel to better focus on more important things he would have to take back, such as the presents he had purchased for his few acquaintances back home.  
  
So focused he was on his task, that he jumped when someone knocked on his room's door.  
  
"Come in!" he called, clearing his throat to try and not sound as squeaky as he feared he would otherwise.  
  
The door opened, and an amused Sholto peeked inside.  
  
"Did I startle you, Captain Watson?" he asked, clearly having picked up on John's slip.  
  
With a roll of his eyes, John turned back to his belongings so he could hide his reddened cheeks.  
  
"Of course not, Major," he said, keeping the formal titles up when he noticed James didn't close the door. That meant he was there on official business, and not just with a pretense to see him.  
  
"I was waiting for you in the mess hall, but I see why you're taking your time to go to breakfast," he said, using a folder he was holding in his right hand to point at John's packing.  
  
"Waiting for me? Why? And what do you have there?" John asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked back at James. He hadn't even realised he was almost late, and they would soon stop serving breakfast.  
  
"I need you to elaborate on some parts of the report you've submitted regarding your work the other day," James said, his voice even in that professional way John envied. He  
always felt like he was giving too much away whenever he talked to James in public.  
  
"Oh," John said glumly, his face falling a bit. He kept putting clothes away for a while, but eventually sighed and turned around, his hands absent mindedly continuing on their task of folding a jumper.  
  
"Sure, sir. What do you need to know?" he asked with a sigh, but noticed that James' eyes had fallen to his working hands, a single eyebrow slightly raised, matching the small curl forming at the corner of his mouth.  
  
"What do _you_ have there?" he asked in a mirror of John's earlier words, and the doctor knew that the work had been put aside, if for a brief moment.  
  
When John looked down, he felt his face flush at the sight of what he was holding. Of all the jumpers he owned - of which, admittedly, only a few he had brought to Afghanistan - he was holding the ugliest of them all.  
  
"Er... this, that is... Well. My sister sent it to me as a Christmas present last year. So, I was thinking of taking it home to..."  
  
"Burn it?" James asked, laughter in his eyes.  
  
"No!" John said, but he too had to reign in a snort. "No, I wanted to wear it for our Christmas dinner together," he explained, although he understood where James was coming  
from.  
  
"Oh, to prove to her you haven't actually burnt it... yet. Clever," James insisted, openly grinning now, and John threw the offending article of clothing to his face.  
  
But God, what an ugly thing it was.  
  
"No, thank you, green is not my colour," James chuckled after he had pulled the jumper away from his face, looking down at it, and then at John, before throwing it back.  
  
John sighed and catched the jumper. "No, neither it's mine," he admitted, looking down at the jumper before stuffing it inside his bag to hide it from view.  
  
"I could tell," James said with a cheeky wink, and John felt his spirits lift. He smiled back at the Major, and then scratched the back of his head, sheepishly averting his gaze to  
the man's feet.  
  
"Listen, about the other day..." he started, but James cut him off.  
  
"No need," he said, his voice suave and gentle. "I understand. You were under a lot of stress, and I couldn't help with that... even though I tried. I'm just glad you're feeling better, and I hope the wine last night helped."  
  
John had to laugh a bit at that, and look back up into James' eyes.  
  
"Oh? So that was for my sake? And here I was, thinking you were trying to win all the men's favour... Buying them off with cookies and mulled wine," he teased, only managing to get a smile and a shrug from the Major.  
  
"I like doing that sort of thing for the troops. Like the other day proved, you never know when it'll be someone's last day, and it's nice to... Make a difference, I suppose. Even if it's in a small way, by making someone happy for a few hours," James explained, and John felt his heart swell with affection.  
  
This was why he loved this man so much. Because beneath his tough exterior, behind his imposing height and stern features, beyond his strictness and barked orders, there was a heart of gold, always trying to make life in a warzone a bit better, a keen mind, always working out problems, and a caring soul, always worrying about others.  
  
After a long pause during which all John could do was a (no doubt great) impression of a lovesick fool, the doctor cleared his throat and nodded, forcing himself to drop the smile on his face.  
  
"That was very nice of you, Sir. I'm sure it has helped more than just myself, and lifted everyone's morale." John had no doubts that if the Italians hadn't had enough wine, James would have left for the nearest liquor shop to get it himself. At the very least, he knew who'd provided the spices used in the delicious beverage.  
  
"It was my pleasure," James said graciously, and John promised to himself that he would kiss the man before the day was over.  
  
"I'll be in your office later to answer any questions you might have regarding my report," John said eventually.  
  
James nodded, smiled, and then left him to his packing with a soft murmur of, "I'll be waiting."


	13. Day 13 - Warming Up By the Fire

James stared into the fire popping inside the old stove and sighed, rubbing a hand over his eyes.

He checked his watch again to make sure time hadn't actually slowed down, and then frowned when he found out that yes, yes indeed, it must had. It couldn't still be more than half an hour for his shift to end.

When he had offered to take over for Ferguson after the man had come down with a nasty stomach bug, he hadn't really thought things through. The post needed manning, and every other man was either busy packing or with their own chores.

But then the day had grown longer and heavier, what with the supervising of the recently deceased soldiers' bodies being shipped home and the lengthy reports he was going to have to write about the attack... Not to mention the growing piles of authorizations for sick soldiers, such as Ferguson himself, and the rearrangements they were still making to account for all the people going on leave. And there wasn't much time left before Christmas, either.

Rubbing his face once more, James reached for his termos, needing a fortifying sip of tea - only to find the container was already empty. _Damn_.

James took another deep breath through his nose and reached to warm his hands by the fire, watching down from the watch tower and into the darkness. There was nothing but the desert, stretching on for miles and miles everywhere, only a dash of black or white here and there giving away the presence of sparse vegetation and farms or houses.

James was starting to feel groggy, no matter if it wasn't even one am yet. He was a man of habit, and ever since joining the army he had never failed to be in bed by midnight, at the very latest. It used to be half past ten, but his liaison with John had caused him to... stray, a couple of times. Not that he regretted that, or anything related to John.

He felt a smile curl his lips, as it often happened when he thought about the man. Afghanistan, while fighting a war, was the last place where he would've thought to find love. And yet, here they were, pair of fools that they were.

James reached once more for his thermos, only to scoff at himself. Right. Empty. He was about to shake his head at himself, when a gentle knock nearly startled him.

When he turned around, he found the very same man that had been occupying his thoughts standing at the end of the ladder that brought to the watchtower, a thermos in the hand he had used to knock and a smile on his face.

"Permission to come in, Sir?" he asked, and James scooted a bit to the side to leave space on the low bench he was sitting on for John to join in.

"Permission granted, Watson," he said with a nod, patting the wooden surface.

John grinned and climbed the rest of the way up, sitting heavily on the bench and blowing out a billow of white steam at the cold.

"Well, not as toasty warm as I thought it'd be in here," he said with a soft chuckle. "Now I know it was a good idea to bring this," he added, handing the thermos to James.

"They need to make sure soldiers won't fall asleep on the post, now, don't they?" James joked, accepting the thermos gratefully.

"Mmh, I suppose you're right. As usual," his companion replied, humming tunelessly in amusement. "Seems to be a trend with us."

James could only chuckle at that.

"Indeed. What are you doing here, Watson? I thought medics needed their sleep to be efficient on the field," he teased.

When all he got in return was a shrug, he picked up the cap from his own thermos, handed it to John, and filled it with freshly brewed tea, before doing the same thing for himself with the cap from the new thermos.

"I was finalising the reports on the other day's casualties," John said somberly as he watched James fill their cups, his eyes serious. "When I saw the time, I thought you might need some company. We haven't seen each other much today," he admitted, clinking the metal cups together. The sound echoed in the narrow cabin.

"We're busy military men," James rebuffed, and contrary to his words, leaned down so his head was resting on John's shoulder.

"Once again, right on all fronts," John said, relaxing beneath James and tilting his head back on his.

They fell silent after that, sipping on their tea and staring into the night, warming up by the fire and by each other. James' shift would be over soon, someone else would come and take his place, and John would have to leave shortly, but for now...

They could have this, if just for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have actually no idea whether they use watchtowers in Afghanistan military bases or not... it was the most plausible thing next to camping in the desert, and I had to get something out there for today's chapter. That said, I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Let me know what you think of this story, and subscribe to be the first to get updates! :)


	14. Day 14 - Trimming the Tree

John watched with amusement as some young recruits at their first Christmas away from home set up the battered, fake old Christmas tree in a corner of the mess hall. They were chatting and laughing among themselves, but they were too far for John to distinguish words from the sound of their voices.

He was absent mindedly chewing on his mashed potatoes - which didn't really require chewing in the first place - still mulling over what to get James for Christmas.

Between all that had happened in the past few days and his impending departure, John felt like his mind was being pulled in five directions at the same time, and if he were honest he was ready to split.

He found he missed the days where his only thoughts were about work. Whether he needed to order more supplies or not, what treatment use on this or that patient, how to increase on field efficiency... And, of course, how to always make sure he saw James at least once a day.

There were times were they couldn't even clap eyes on each other, and those were the days John loathed the most. He knew James was busy, being a higher up and everything, and he didn't ask for more than he could get... It's just, sometimes the man would disappear behind a closed door, a desk, piles of paperwork, and wouldn't reemerge for hours, or even whole days.

John had started bringing the man his food whenever that sort of situation presented itself - knowing perfectly well that, otherwise, James would've forgotten to eat, always putting the work first. On those days, things felt very... domestic, weirdly enough. Knock on the door, a smile on his face, lunch for the working husband and a kiss on his lips before going back to his own work.

It felt silly, but John couldn't help but love those moments.

Yet, now, with the concerns about his journey... he felt like too much was happening at once. At least, he had been able to spend a lot more time than usual with James, lately.

"Earth to Watson," Bill called, raising an eyebrow at John as he stared at the tree, even following his gaze to try and understand what the matter was.

"I think he's gone," Emily said gravely, tilting her head to the side. "What's your opinion, doc?"

Her fiancée shook his head gravely. "By the way he has speared his broccoli five minutes ago and still hasn't eaten it... I'm afraid you're right. We've lost a good man today!" Bill wailed dramatically, covering his face with his eyes in a parody of a sob.

"Huh? What?" John asked, blinking at the pair sitting with him, roused from his thoughts by the loud noise. He raised an eyebrow when his brain caught up with the scene, and stated, "If that's how you're going to act at my funeral, I'd rather you didn't attend, ta very much."

Murray sniggered as John finally ate the broccoli dangling from his fork, before scooping up more mashed potatoes with a slice of bread.

"You were so far gone, man, I thought you were already in London."

"Were you?" Emily asked. "Back home? That what you were thinking of?"

John shrugged, and looked down at his plate carefully, as not to betray any emotion. He cleaned it up, filling his mouth to buy some time.

"I guess I was, in a way. I was thinking... domestic," he admitted.

His tablemates were wise enough not to comment on that, but they exchanged a look that went unnoticed by John. They were communicating in that way each couple seemed to craft for itself, but they didn't seem about to share said thoughts with John.

When John looked up from his plate, his eyes went back to the soldiers working on the tree, a petite red haired woman reaching in a box as they begun putting ornaments on the synthetic branches.

Another man, tall and dark skinned, reached for the box at the same time as her, and the two of them giggled at the cliché scene. John could only smile, envying how young and relatively innocent they still were.

He put his cutlery down and sighed, patting his stomach. "Well, I'm full. Think I'm going to go back to work, monitor our patients," he told Murray, just as the man opened his mouth to speak. "No, you can't have my pudding, I'm eating it on my way there," John intercepted him, grinning as Bill's put-out face made Emily snort.

John departed from them and went to put his tray back, just as James entered the mess hall to have his own lunch. He walked by the tree, now on the other side of the room from where John was standing, and reached down to pick up a fallen ornament shaped like Santa, handing it back to the red haired woman.

The smile on his face was so sweet, John would've been blinded if he had been standing any closer. Sometimes he wondered how he managed to contain all the love he felt for that man without letting it spill out, and other times, he wondered what stopped them from saying "fuck it all" and just telling everyone.

Wishful thinking, maybe, but for John, nothing would be better than telling everyone about them, and not having to worry about being found out.

In that moment, James turned around and spotted him. He smiled and gave a nod of his head, and John couldn't help but feel his insides melt a little bit.

Well. Maybe one day. For now, he was content with being loved.


	15. Day 15 - Christmas Party

Eventually, the day John dreaded arrived. He was going to get on a night flight from Afghanistan be back to London by morning, and he was going to leave James behind to get shot at on his own.

It wasn't that he was nervous, per se... only, he didn't want to leave James alone. Granted, a bullet's a bullet, and not even John glaring at one could stop its deadly flight, but that wasn't the point. People dying because he wasn't there, that was the point.

And what if James was one of those people? Oh, why hadn't he gave up on his leave...

"John, we'll be fine!" Emily yelled at him when he spaced off for the tenth time in as many minutes.

"Wha?" John asked, looking around with a startled expression at being snapped out of his thoughts.

Emily and Bill rolled their eyes in unison, and John groaned. They knew him too well, didn't they?

"I just... I don't like feeling useless, and I'd feel very useless if I came back and found someone has poked holes in Murray's empty head without my supervision, that's all," John shrugged, looking down at his nails, his eggs and bacon now cold on his plate.

"At least drink your coffee," Emily had said, and that's all John had done.

"Now, now, no one will poke holes in me head. Well, maybe Emily," he admitted, only to be elbowed in the ribs. It was ridiculously endearing to John that they were both giggling.

"Jokes aside, we won't explode without you here. Or, at least, we don't plan to," Bill said, raising an eyebrow.

"You just go to the Christmas party tonight, get drunk enough that you can leave without worrying about us. I hear one of the boys has a bottle of vodka laying around for the occasion," Emily said with a grin and a mischievous glint in her brown eyes.

"Fancy," John conceded, rolling his eyes but recognising her point. "Alright, fine, I'll try not to worry..." he mumbled, although leaving James behind still made his chest feel hollow.

"You'll see, it will be fun!" Murray assured as they picked their trays up and left the canteen.

John sighed and went to take care of the last few details.

***

"I know I can trust you to take care of things. You're probably the second best medic in the room, Betty," John teased as his substitute doctor read through the files of the patients that would spend their Christmas vacation in the medical bay.

The doctor glared briefly at him from over the edge of the files she was holding, and then diverted her attention back to them as she replied placidly, "Call me 'Betty' again and I'll fight your arse right here in the desert."

John grinned and shook his head. "Feisty," he said with a chuckle as he checked the last documents and gathered his things.

"Oh, shut up. Go home and let the professionals work, now."

John knew better than to challenge her. He might be a bit taller, but he knew he wasn't as good with a knife. A scalpel, maybe... but hopefully they'd never have to find out. John liked his limbs attached, thank you very much.

"Will do. Take care, yeah? And don't let my men do anything I wouldn't do."

"You can still change that sentence in 'don't let them do anything stupid'... I feel like that'd be safer for everyone," she grinned.

John laughed and nodded in acknowledgement, tapping his fingers on his small desk and nodding one last time.

"Thank you," he said, and then left.

***

That evening, the 'party' ended up being just a few people sitting around one of the tables in the mass hall, drinking vodka and playing cards. It wasn't as fun as John had been hoping, but it was a chance for the boys to wish each other happy holidays.

John wasn't much in the mood for booze and cards, though, and he didn't plan on spending the entire evening there. So, as soon as he could justify it on tiredness and unfinished packing, he left the merry gathering with one last wave, and then headed to Sholto's office.

He planned on saying properly goodbye to the man, after all, and he couldn't do that in public... Not that the Major had bothered coming to the gathering. John expected him to see them off at the airfield.

When he got to the office, he knocked on the door and entered. He didn't wait long before James called him in, and he entered to find the man sitting sprawled at his desk and sipping scotch from his reserve.

"Started without me?" John asked, a bit tipsy himself.

James gave him a lopsided smile and a shrug in response. "Maybe I was feeling lonely," he offered.

John rolled his eyes. "And whose fault is that? Could've come to the farewell party," he said, walking to James and plopping down in his lap.

James hummed and left his glass on the table, wrapping his arms around John's waist to pull him closer.

"I was hoping for a more private celebration," he said, pressing kisses to John's neck.

But oh, the doctor could've melted under those attentions.

"Mmmh, and now here I am," John purred, wrapping his arms around James' shoulders.

"Finally," James agreed, picking John up and taking him to the small conjoined bedroom. He locked the door and let John fall on the bed, climbing on top of him.

"You're funny when you're tipsy," John giggled, watching as the taller man craned his head to press kisses along his jaw. "More open... I like that," he added in a whisper, running his hands up James' back.

James let another hum rumble through his chest, his arms moving so that instead of framing John's torso, he could wrap them around him, hands sliding beneath his body.

"I'm always funny," he said in a very serious tone of voice, and John giggled again.

"Especially funny, then," he amended, moaning when James pressing their bodies together.

James grinned and bit on John's neck, making the doctor squirm beneath him.

"Shall I get us rid of our clothes?" James said, enunciating every word with as much precision as he could.

John smiled but shook his head, even as James moved downwards, his mouth brushing John's stomach through his shirt.

"You sure?" James whispered, slowly inching John's shirt up, up, until he could press kisses and small nips to the strip of skin between John's belt and his navel.

Despite his moan, John nodded and ran a hand through James' thin hair.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he promised. He cupped James' face and pulled him up, pressing a kiss on his lips. "I don't want to think of this as the last time we make love, so..."

"Who said it's the last time?" James asked, raising an eyebrow.

John shrugged. "Dunno. Just don't want to jinx it, I guess?" he explained. "And anyway, I'm more in the mood for cuddles..."

James smiled and nodded. "Well, your every desire is my command," he teased, wrapping his arms around John again, and settling the both of them on their sides, facing each other. "This okay? Or would you rather spoon?" James asked, voice soft.

John grinned and pressed their foreheads together. "Mmh, this is perfect. I'd just fall asleep if we spoon, anyway, and I have a flight to catch at 3 am."

"Well, then... I'll wake you up in a few hours, if you fall asleep," James promised.

"I'd rather be awake for this," John said, but still snuggled closer to James and closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pre-Christmas farewell party? Yeah, close enough...


	16. Day 16 - Family Traditions

The flight home was long and tiring, and John was cranky for the little sleep he had gotten and having to leave James behind in equal measure.

He spent half a day being terribly jet-lagged, even though the time difference wasn't that big. Even those four and a half hours threw him off terribly. Thankfully, the army had provided him with a hotel room, so he could take some time for himself before facing his sister.

Between the sleep deprivation and the time zone playing tricks on him, John ended up sleeping most of the day away, only waking up around 6 pm to the shrill ringing of his mobile.

He regretted picking it up without checking the caller ID.

"JOHN!" a female voice bellowed in his ear, and in his muddled state John had to juggle with the phone to avoid dropping it.

"Harry," he groaned, pressing the phone between his ear and the pillow.

"Why the hell didn't you call me as soon as you got here?!" she inquired, still several decibels louder than John would've liked.

"I was sleeping," he explained with yet another groan, rubbing his face.

"Well, up you get, brother! It's time for our drinking and pulling bar crawl," Harry said, a cheer in her voice that John had long since learnt to associate with trouble.

"I can accompany you, but I'm not much in the mood for either of those things tonight..."

"Oh, come on! Just a couple of pints. Don't tell me the army actually softened you?" she teased, causing his brother to roll his eyes in an almost painful way.

"Yeah, it sure did," he said, tiredly. "I'm just still only half here, you know? Feel like if I walk out of this room the desert will be out there waiting for me."

"Well, there are only pubs and pretty girls out there, but I'm not sure they'll be waiting for long," Harry insisted, and John rolled his eyes again.

"Fine. Guess someone will have to make sure you don't get too shitfaced, eh?"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever! As long as it means you're coming out with me. Two Watsons are better than one, after all," Harry said, and John had to smile at the grin he could hear in her voice.

"Bullshit," he said back, and he could see his sister giving him the finger from miles away. "See you later."

"See ya!" she said cheerfully, before hanging up.

With one last sigh, John got up from the bed and got ready to leave.

***

One shower and some grooming later, John was waiting for his sister to come back to their table, looking around the pub with interest. There were many people for a weekday, but he supposed many would take advantage of this time to celebrate with friends, before being forced to spend Christmas with their families.

In his case, John thought, it was one and the same thing.

He looked up when Harry returned to their table, a grin on her face as her purple fringe flopped over her eyes. She didn't set the two pints she was holding down on the table, and John knew something was up. He raised his eyebrow, and Harry's excited buzzing finally turned into a happy babble.

"Okay, so, I've met this girl-" she started, and John groaned.

"Do I have to play wingman, then?" he asked, interrupting her with an half smile.

"Nah, no need, I think I have this one. But her friend might get lonely, you know," Harry said casually.

John sighed, but stood up to follow Harry. "Alright, but don't expect much. I don't feel very suave tonight."

"Luckily, I am!" she said, waltzing away with their drinks.

John could only follow.

***

The rest of the evening was spent with Harry and her new friend, a charming Scottish girl with pink hair and an infectious laugh.

"And then my cat farted in my face!" she said in her thick accent, making Harry burst into laughter while she was taking a sip of her beer.

"Oh, God," she sputtered, wiping beer from her chin. "What the hell, cat!"

John shook his head with an amused grin, and the other girl at the table watched with a tipsy grin that said she'd heard that story before.

"So, what do you do again?" he asked her, conversationally, while his sister kept flirting with the Scottish girl.

John listened, a bit wide eyes, as she listed all her PhDs, bachelors and masters, whistling under his breath at the sheer amount of certifications and degrees.

"So when you write your name you just follow it up with the alphabet?" he asked with a grin, but his conversation partner didn't seem too amused. John cleared his throat and tried to fix his slight blunder. "That's very impressive, really."

"Thank you... I just want to know everything, I guess," she said, finishing her fifth pint. John felt like she could drink him under the table, so he kept nursing his second pint, looking for a way out of the evening.

She was a perfectly lovely woman, and at another time John would've totally tried to seduce her, but he had James now, and he wasn't about to have a one-night stand in London.

In the end, he took his cue when Harry suggested another round. John offered to go and pay for it, and he didn't waste much time to leave the table.

He went to the bar and ordered three more pints, not intentioned to drink any more for the night.

He knew he was probably being a party pooper for his sister, but he couldn't stop thinking about James. What he'd give to be able to just sit in a pub with the man, watching a rugby game on the telly and drinking together...

When he brought the pints to the table, he found it empty, the girls having moved to the small stage in the middle of the pub for an impromptu karaoke session. Knowing his sister was in the good hands of a very competent doctor - and, maybe, she was even going to score that night - John took advantage of the moment to leave.

He wanted to send an email to James, and then go back to bed to sleep his melancholy away.


	17. Day 17 - Christmas Without You

Even a good night of sleep didn't cure John of his bad mood, but waking up to an answering email from James did manage to make him smile.

_Dearest John,_

_Don't worry, everything's alright down here. The more Christmas approaches, the more restless the boys are, but that's to be expected._

_The medic you've selected is taking good care of us, and when I asked what she and her unit were doing while they were playing cards, she told me to mind my business. She's a sassy one... I like her._

_But I like you more, and even though I miss you, I'm glad you're spending Christmas with your family and loved ones. I'm sure we will meet again sooner than you realise, and then it will feel like we were never apart in the first place._

_I suppose it's easy enough for me to say that, busy as I am. The work helps keep my mind off of the distance that separates us._

_I love you, John, and I can't wait to hold you again._

_James_

Even with all his love for the man, and all the love the man clearly felt for him, John couldn't shake off the sense of extreme loneliness. Even with his sister, he didn't belong in London anymore, to civilian life.

He belonged in the war, in the excitement, under a shower of bullets and the unrelenting Afghan sun, with sand ending up everywhere and with James, his dear James.

He felt like a Victorian lady with a case of the morbs, but he couldn't help it: London made him feel useless, and even walking in his favourite parks and visiting his favourite shops didn't help alleviate the feeling.

That night, he found himself in a pub near the Madame Tussaud's museum, close enough to his hotel that he could walk back there even if he got shitfaced, but far enough that he didn't risk meeting one of the few comrades who were staying at his same hotel rather than with their families if they decided to go for a drink.

He decided to sit at the counter for once, rather than look for a table, and when he saw a couple of girls sitting next to his chosen spot, he spoke more out of habit than out of a wish of pulling.

"Can I offer you a drink?" he asked.

The two girls were chatting animatedly, but they both turned around to look at John, surprised expressions on their faces.

"Well, I won't say no to a free drink," one of them said, adjusting her glasses, but the other shook her head.

"I'm a slow drinker, thank you. Besides, I'd probably flop over if I got another pint," she said, an apologetic smile on her face.

John let the girl order her drink - "a pint of pear cider, thank you, that's my shit" - and wondered at their American accents.

"So, you girls are tourists?" he asked conversationally.

"Nah, we study here," one of them said, smiling, and before he could react, John was listening as the girls launched into explaining their masters and future novels.

"Gay mermaids, huh?" he asked, a forced smile on his lips.

"Mermen, yeah," one of them explained.

He listened to them talk for another hour, consuming two more pints as they chatted amiably about magical stuff and cow inhabited fields, and eventually had to excuse himself. That wasn't his genre, anyways. He had always been more of a crime novels fan.

The evening hadn't gone like planned, but for once that was a good thing. Rather than wasting time sulking, he got to spend time listening to very enthusiastic young ladies talk about their dreams and passions, although he felt that hadn't been the most attentive of audiences.

When he returned to his hotel, he took a shower and decided to head straight for bed, but as he was slipping his pyjamas on, his phone rang from the bedside table. He sighed and went to get it, hoping it wasn't Harry ringing him, but he found it was an unknown number.

He answered with a confused frown, but smiled at the voice that greeted him from the other side.

"James," he said, pleasantly surprised. "How did you get hold of a mobile phone?"

"You'd be surprised," James' voice chuckled warmly in his ear, and John felt a shiver run down his spine at the intimacy of it.

"Why are you calling, then? Shouldn't you be sleeping?" John asked, checking the time on his phone by pulling it away from his ear for a moment. "Or... rather, should't you be waking up in an hour?"

James hummed thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose so... But I was wondering how your day was going."

"Boringly, if I'm honest. I feel very ungrateful," John said with a pout, even though James wouldn't see it. Maybe he was a bit tipsier than intended...

"Oh, don't pout now. I heard it should snow in London tonight... has it started yet?"

"I'm sure if it does snow, it'll be as short lived as it was in Afghanistan - if not more, because of the pollution," John replied sceptically.

"Spoilsport. Why don't you check for me? Just look outside the window," James insisted, and John rolled his eyes but complied.

"Fine, but only so I can rub it in your face that it isn't, in fact, sno-"

John's words died on his lips. When he looked outside his second story window and down onto the street, he felt his eyes go as wide as saucers at the sight of a smiling James Sholto looking up at him.

"Surprise," he said, and John heard him over the phone even as he saw his lips move from a distance.

John didn't even bother to take his coat: he rushed out the door, barely remembering to grab his key-card from the holder on the wall, and went down the steps two at the time, until he was running out of the hotel and into his lover's arms. It felt like a movie when James caught him in his arms and made him twirl in the air.

"James!" he called, surprise still in his voice. "You- how?" he asked when he was with his feet back on the ground, looking up at the other man.

"I was in the neighborough..." James started, only to be swatted on the arm by John. "Fine, fine... I made request for a short leave on Christmas and it was granted to me, because I haven't been on leave in years," the Major finally admitted.

John grinned, feeling silly. "And you wanted to surprise me?" he asked, feeling too giddy to be angry.

"Well, yes. I'd say it worked. I wasn't going to leave you alone for long, after all."

John shook his head and shivered, taking James' hand and tugging him towards the hotel.

"Come on, I'm freezing my arse out here. Let's get inside."

"With pleasure."


	18. Day 18 - Mistletoe (E)

James wasn't nervous, per se. A bit uneasy, perhaps, but absolutely not worried. After all, he wasn't going on a suicide mission or anything. It was just dinner. Then a drink at a pub, maybe watching a game on telly, and just... being with John. That was good.

Being in public? Not as much.

It wasn't like James didn't want to be seen with John, but... he worried about what would happen if they were seen and recognised by someone. They had spent so many energies not being found out in Afghanistan, it wouldn't do to be found out like this. To let their guard down only to be betrayed by that.

But John had assured him, they were going at a pub on the other side of town, all the way to Finsbury Park. There was no way they'd meet anyone that could recognise them. And James wanted to believe him.

When they arrived on the spot, James found it was a very charming place, with the feel of old, smoky pubs permeating the very walls. They got comfortable in the warm interiors, ordered a pint and sat at a table in the back - away from the windows, just to make extra sure - from which they could see one of the big screen televisions playing a rugby match, but also the old mirror reading the pub's name, and allowing them to keep an eye on the rest of the pub.

James watched as John went to the counter to get them both drinks, and eventually started to relax in the Christmassy atmosphere granted by the few decorations strewn around the pub.

He scanned their surroundings out of habit, but found most people were sitting at the front of the pub, leaving the back empty but for them and a group of three girls, sitting together at a table and laughing.

Soon enough, he found himself letting his guard down, and he started to enjoy the evening out.

"It's been a long time since I had such a fun, calm outing," James admitted, smiling. "I had started to forget the world outside Afghanistan is so... quiet."

"Boring, you mean," John said with a chuckle, taking a sip of his pint.

"We fight so that it can stay boring, though, don't we?" James countered with a smile.

"True," John agreed, clinking their glasses together.

They were chatting about all and nothing, when one of the girls from the table approached with a silly grin on her face.

"Okay, so, I just wanted to let you guys know that you are very cute together, and that it's unacceptable that you didn't kiss when you walked through the door," she said, her words a bit slurred, and James wondered what she meant.

But then he followed the direction she was pointing in, and realised what she meant with a slight blush on his cheeks.

"I don't really follow Christmas traditions that strictly," he said as John turned back to face him, after having noticed for the first time the mistletoe hanging over the door.

"Still, a tradition is a tradition," she said, her glasses slipping a bit down her nose.

"I... suppose," James said, frowning a bit.

"And anyways, I'm not asking you to fuck on the spot, am I? Although I am _very_ drunk," she said.

James couldn't reign his laughter in at that. "Oh, good, that might've been a problem with the owners," he said, and he watched as one of the girls at the table dissolved into a fit of giggles.

"Okay, but, like... Just promise you'll kiss, ye? When you get home, or... wherever it is you popped out from," she said with a wave of her hand.

Her friends approached the table, and as soon as giggles-girl was close enough, glasses-girl reached to catch her arm, pulling her closer. "Aren't they cute?" she gushed with a grin.

"Yes, yes they are, but... we should leave them alone now," the other girl replied, smiling shyly at James and John.

"I know a good kebab place around the corner," the third girl said, while tapping away at her phone.

"Are you tweeting this?" glasses-girl asked as they walked away, walking towards the front of the bar.

"Oh, yes," the third girl said with a grin as they disappeared around the corner.

John looked at James with an amused glint in his eyes and an equally bright flush on his cheeks, and the Major could only shrug.

"What a funny lady," he pointed out.

"That's London for you - what can you do?" John replied, smiling and reaching across the table to clink their glasses together again.

***

The rest of the evening passed quickly, and pretty much as soon as the match on telly was over, James and John returned to their hotel.

James' room was in the same establishment as John's, but on a different floor. That was good, as it allowed them to go upstairs together, and to sneak into each other's room unnoticed, the hotel's security a bit lacking in the camera department.

As it turned out, it was good for them, because that meant James could have no regrets about being laid out on his bed, naked, with a very naked John Watson kneeling between his legs, their mouths crashed together to make up for the missed mistletoe kisses from earlier.

Not that they cared much about traditions, but it was better to be safe than sorry, wasn't it?

When John pulled away, breathing ragged, James reached to grasp his biceps, keeping him close. Almost towering on him as he was. It was... nice.

"John," the Major sighed, just as the other man began kissing down his chest, moving to his stomach, down and down, lower and lower, barely sparing a lick to his cock before he was heading even lower still.

Before he could ask what the other man had in mind, James felt something wet press against his entrance, and he gasped in surprise. "Oh God," he moaned, closing his eyes and spreading his legs.

John took good care of preparing him, licking and probing at his hole with his tongue, looking up at James with dark eyes. Before long, John was moving up again, sucking briefly on his finger and pressing it inside of James, while his mouth went to work on James' testicles. John sucked them in his mouth, and James had to throw his head back both in pleasure and at the sight, a strangled moan stuck in his throat.

"I want to hear you for once," John said, pulling away, his finger pushing in at an agonising pace. "It's okay, just let it out," John insisted, before taking James in his mouth.

The Major couldn't help the loud yell of surprise that left his lips as John simultaneously pushed his finger further in and licked at the head of his shaft, encased in his hot mouth and tortured by his talented tongue. Soon, he was squirming under John's touch, his finger moving slowly in as his mouth slowly descended on him, the pressure almost unbearable. But as John sucked hard on him, taking in as deep as he could, his finger probed around until he found James' prostate, causing the man to spasm on the bed.

"Again," James begged, his breathing ragged and his voice a loud gasp. "Please--"

John didn't let him ask twice, his finger teasing James' prostate relentlessly while he swallowed around the man whenever he was close enough to his throat to feel the movement.

James wasn't bound to last, and almost as if on cue, he came when John took him deep enough that his nose brushed the light hair of James' groin, while his finger drove into his prostate one last, explosive time.

James felt like he hadn't come that hard in ages, and by the time he was done spasming, he found he was panting extremely loudly.

"God," he groaned, shivering with the aftershocks of his orgasm.

"Hu-huh," John moaned, nearby, and when James lifted his head he found the man was fisting his own erection furiously, so much it barely seemed enjoyable.

"Come here, let me take care of you," James invited him, pulling him closer by the arm.

Once he was level with John, James wrapped his hand around the doctor's cock and slowly began stroking him, allowing his pace to grow faster bit by bit, wanting to draw this out.

"I want to hear you, too," he whispered against John's lips in between open-mouthed kisses, their breath mingling with their panting, until the air between them was warm and damp, but not less perfect.

"Come for me," James said after a while, when he could see John was losing control, his moans growing louder and more frequent. "Come on, love," he encouraged him, until John arched his back against him, his hands pushing on James' chest as he came with a cry.

"Jesus," John panted when he came down from his height, making James grin.

"Not quite," the Major said, winking, and receiving an eye roll and an amused grin in return.

Soon, John settled until they were spooning, James chest pressed against the shorter man's back, their legs entwined, and neither man could suppress their content smiles.

"Goodnight, love."

"Goodnight to you, love."

At that moment, as they drifted off, James thought that if they could have this for the rest of their lives... he wouldn't mind leaving the army as much as he dreaded.


	19. Day 19 - Christmas Songs

John wasn't sure what to do, now that his dream of having James with him was true. Eventually, after spending a lazy morning snogging in bed and cuddling, they decided to leave the cocoon of their hotel room to go for a walk.

They went to get breakfast at a coffee shop and then decided to go to Covent Garden, planning to look around the market, maybe watch one of the live bands perform. John held onto James' arm every now and then, careful to be discreet. Everything was feeling terribly domestic, and John never wanted the moment to end.

True, he would eventually miss the war, the excitement and the danger, the saving lives and fighting, but... having this wasn't all too bad, either. John knew James wouldn't leave the army, but he himself had started to think about what he would do next. What he could do. At the end of his tour, he could continue his career as a surgeon, maybe even open a private clinic. Then, when the time came, James could join him in London.

It was just a fantasy, of course, and a barely possible one at that, for sure. But John could still dream of a day when they wouldn't have to hide, as far in the future as it was.

When they arrived in Covent Garden, the rumbling thunder that had been threatening them all day long finally held onto its promise, and a light rain started falling on them. They hurried under the covered market before it could turn into a proper storm, giggling like boys about forgetting to take an umbrella.

"Well, at least we're not too wet," John said with a chuckle.

"Talk for yourself..." James muttered, but with a grin on his face.

John wanted nothing else but to pull him closer and kiss his thin lips, and for once he could give into that impulse, so he did. But as he was tugging the man down by the collar of his shirt, someone hurrying beneath the market's cover bumped into them.

"Oh, sorry," a female voice said, and John turned around in surprise when he found it was somewhat familiar.

"Oh," he said, smiling awkwardly. "You're the girl writing the mermaid thing! Hello again."

"Nice to see you again," she said, her two friends waving at him.

John recognised only two of them from the bar, and so he nodded politely at them.

"How are you today, then?" he asked conversationally.

"A little wet," the girl said, and John could distinctly hear James snorting loudly to stifle his laughter, somewhere above him.

"Yes, well, I'd say that's how we're all feeling," John conceded, throwing a side-ways glance at James.

"Nice to meet you," John said to the third girl, as James nodded at them all in greeting.

"Nice dress," James said, pointing at the third girl's bright red dress.

"Thank you very much," she said with a smile, and her friends grinned.

"Actually, we should go show that dress to Mark," one of them said, and the third girl shrugged.

"No rush. Although I can't wait to see his reaction..." she said.

John was about to take that as their cue to leave, the girls engrossed in their talk of 'spoilers' and 'new series', when a carolling band walked by them, stopping beneath the market as well to start singing their Christmas songs.

"Oh, oh no," John said under his breath, giggling at the silliness of the situation. "It's getting a bit crowded in here, isn't it?" he asked James, looking up at him.

James smiled down at him, and then opened his mouth and started singing with the carolling group.

And his voice was terribly enchanting. John couldn't help but stare at him with a lovesick grin on his face, until James' arm wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him closer.

" _Joy to the world, the Lord is come!_ "

John felt that he couldn't sing for shit, but he still tried, under his breath, his arms wrapped around James' middle.

Even if it was rainy and damp, John couldn't have dreamt of a more perfect day.

**Author's Note:**

> Slowly but steadily bringing this to completion! I hope you'll like this silly story I'm writing for the sake of Jolto and the sake of writing! :)
> 
> Follow me on tumblr!
> 
> Multifandom blog: stravaganza.tumblr.com  
> Sherlock blog: stravaganzalock.tumblr.com  
> Writing blog: stravaganzawrites.tumblr.com


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